Mercy Burns

Chapter Five

The first thing I did when I got upstairs was to phone work to tell them I’d need a new ID card when I got back in another week or so. I couldn’t do much about my driver’s license—I’d have to show up at the DMV office to fix that, and right now I couldn’t take that risk.

With that done, I headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Food might not help fuel the fires, but I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and I was hungry enough to eat a horse. Not that I would have unless really pushed. Their meat tended to be too gamey for me, although many dragons consider them a delicacy.

Luckily for my stomach, my brother kept a far better stock of food than I usually did, so the fridge was full of the good stuff. Several thick beef sandwiches later, I had finally settled the uneasy rumblings in my belly. After rechecking that all the doors were locked, I headed to bed and slept the sleep of the semidrugged—although even the remnants of the drugs had not been strong enough to stop me reliving the moments of the crash, over and over.

It was well after ten when I woke. I dragged myself into the shower, washing away the grit of sleep and the last vestiges of the dreams, then grabbed some coffee and headed over to my brother’s desk and laptop.

I found the card Angus had given me and googled his business. His website came up straight away. I clicked on the link and was confronted by a smiling picture of my kidnapper.

I picked up my coffee cup and leaned back in the chair, sipping the steaming liquid as I contemplated his image. Damon had warned me off going after our kidnappers, but I wasn’t going to get the answers I needed by doing that. And I very much doubted he was going to return and explain what was going on—especially given he’d been more than a little recalcitrant about the reasons he was there in the first place.

Besides, I had a friend to avenge and a soul to save. And while sitting here in my brother’s house might be safer, it wasn’t what I needed to do.

Angus had known about the accident—he’d obviously been sent information about me before our meeting—and he’d been talking to the man who had driven the truck, so he obviously knew a whole lot more than I did. I just needed to find out what.

It would probably be a good idea to find out more about Damon, too—just in case our paths crossed again. I reached for the phone and quickly dialed Leith’s direct number.

“Phoenix Investigations, Leith Nichols speaking.”

His usually mellow speech had taken on a formal note, and I couldn’t help smiling. “And don’t you sound mighty professional today, my friend.”

“Hey, babe, how you doing?” His voice relaxed into the easygoing tones I was used to.

“I’m doing fine,” I said, as I opened the glass door to the small side balcony and stepped outside. The sunlight wrapped around me, warming me, fueling me. I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to hum with pleasure. “But I was wondering if you could do a few favors for me.”

“You already owe me dinner. This could bring breakfast into the equation as well.”

I grinned. I’d known Leith for nine years, and he’d been trying to get into my bed for eight and a half of those. Trouble was, he wasn’t serious, and we both knew it. I think if I ever did say yes, he’d actually run a mile the other way rather than risk ruining a wonderful friendship.

Mind you, I had no doubt he’d be a damn fine lover. He just wasn’t the right lover for me.

“I don’t mind buying you breakfast, but there won’t be bed before it.”

“Damn, woman, you spoil all my fun.”

“Oh, I think you’re doing just fine.”

He chuckled softly. “What can I do for you, Mercy?”

“You remember that sea dragon I told you about?”

“The one you asked me to do the background check on?”

“That’s the one. We had our meet, during which he drugged me, then kidnapped me, then dumped me in a metal-lined cellar over in St. Francis Wood.”

“Shit, are you all right?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“Thankfully, from the sound of it. You want me to go beat him up for you?”

I laughed at the enthusiasm in his voice. Leith might be the boy-next-door type, but he liked a fight. It got the blood moving, apparently. I guess that’s why he’d become a private investigator rather than the lawyer he’d studied to be.

“No, I do not want you to beat him up.” Not yet, anyway. “I need to talk to him again.”

“You want me along this time?”

I hesitated. To be honest—and despite the fact that he’d drugged me—I didn’t fear Angus. But I certainly didn’t trust him.

“No, but I need to know if you’ve uncovered anything about him.”

“Mercy, meeting your kidnapper alone is not the brightest idea you’ve ever had—and you’ve done a few dumb things in your time.”

“Yeah, mostly with either Rainey or you standing right beside me.”

“Well, some damn fool has to protect you.”

“I’ll be fine, Leith. Really.”

He grunted, but it didn’t sound like he believed me. “We haven’t been able to find out much about him. He’s been running the bay cruises for about ten years and living here for about as long. He’s been a model citizen, is hardworking, and is socking away the cash, from what we saw of his bank records. We haven’t been able to uncover much about him before he came here, though.”

“He’s got a bit of a Scottish accent, so he may have come from there originally.”

“We’re running overseas checks, but it’s going to take time.”

“Which I don’t have,” I snapped. He didn’t say anything, and I took a deep, calming breath before adding, “Sorry, Leith.”

“It’s okay. I know the anger isn’t aimed at me.” He hesitated, and I heard a soft, feminine voice say something in the background. “Janelle says don’t be tempted to go to Whale Point this morning. Angus won’t be there, but they will have men watching the area, just in case you show up. You don’t want to go anywhere near them.”

Janelle was the psychic who worked with Leith, and a sweet old woman who had to be at least eighty. She’d been with Phoenix Investigations for as long as anyone could remember. According to Leith, the place would fall apart without her.

Though I hadn’t actually been planning to go anywhere near Whale Point, I still said, “But if those men are the ones who killed Rainey—”

Another murmur in the background, then Leith said, “They’re hired muscles, not the brains. They won’t give you answers, just more bruises and pain.”

All of which confirmed my decision to avoid the place like a plague. “What about Angus? Can I find him at his boat?”

Leith passed the question on to Janelle. “She says no, but to try the Heron on Pier 39. He should be back there at about seven. And she says to watch your back. He could be a marked man, and anyone with him could meet the same fate.”

Especially if that someone had already escaped from the very people who might now be after him. I drew in a deep breath, sucking in the morning’s heat, feeling it flush the sudden chill from my body. But it was harder to ignore the notion that I was getting in way over my head.

It wasn’t like I had a choice. Not if I wanted to save Rainey’s soul. I had four days left.

“Tell Janelle I’ll be fine and to stop worrying.”

There was more murmured conversation, then Leith said, “She says it’s her job to worry. She also says not to play games with Death. He’s dangerous.”

I couldn’t help smiling. I might not work for Phoenix, but I hung out with many of its employees, and I’d known Janelle almost as long as I’d known Leith. It was nice to know I was one of the ones she kept a psychic eye on.

“Tell her Death has been met and conquered. He holds no fears for me.”

He passed on the message and a second later, the cackle of her laughter came over the line.

“I guess that means she doesn’t believe me,” I said wryly.

“I guess,” Leith said. “So what are these other favors you want?”

“What can you tell me about the muerte?”

“The who?”

“It’s what my kidnappers called the dragon who was being held in the cellar with me. Apparently it means he’s an assassin of some sort, but he wouldn’t explain it any more than that.”

“I’m guessing this is the man Janelle just warned you about?”

“Probably. But he escorted me home and then disappeared, so I don’t think he’s going to be a problem.” Though I was probably tempting fate even thinking that.

“I’ll hunt around and see what I can dig up,” Leith said. “And I’d tell you to be careful, but we both know that would be a waste. You’re the most foolhardy cautious person I’ve ever known.”

“That’s a contradiction.”

“So are you.”

I grinned. “The other thing I want you to do is run a check on a Seth Knightly, from the Jamieson clique. He’s a dragon, and his father is our king.” Meaning the bastard was my brother’s half brother, but two men had never been so different. If Trae was warmth and sunshine, then Seth was everything that was dark and horrid in the world. “I heard he died in a car accident several years ago. I need to know whether that’s true, and if it’s not, where the hell he is now.”

“You know, it’d be nice if you actually asked me to do something easy for a change.”

I laughed. “You get everything I’ve requested, and I’ll feed you for a week.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

He would, too. Not that I minded—not if he came through with the information. And I had no doubt that he would. Phoenix Investigations had a reputation for getting the job done quickly and efficiently, and a lot of that was due not only to the psychics in its employ, but to Leith’s ability to source the most innocuous details. “I’m at Trae’s for the moment, but I may be in and out, so I’ll give you a call later in the day.”

“I’ll wait with bated breath.”

I snorted and hung up, then leaned back against the wooden wall of the apartment and let the sunlight soak through me just a little longer. After a few minutes, I sighed and headed back inside to google Whale Point, the town that had given Angus his scars. I didn’t expect to find anything, and I got precisely what I expected—nothing. Of course, that didn’t mean the town hadn’t existed or that he’d been lying. It just meant that the truth had been so obscured by his lies that it was hard to tell one from the other. Part of me still wanted to go there today, if only to source out who and what might be waiting for me. But that was a risk I couldn’t take—not after Janelle’s warning.

It meant my only choice now was Angus. And while I wasn’t sure if talking to him again would clarify the situation, I had to try. He was the closest I’d come to getting some answers so far.

I looked at my watch and saw it was barely one. Obviously, time was intent on crawling by.

I switched on the TV, then headed into the kitchen to make myself another sandwich. After grabbing a soda from the fridge, I headed back into the living room—arriving just in time to see a local news report about a fire at a bar on Fillmore Street.

It took me only a second to realize it was the same bar I’d met Angus in. I grabbed the remote and turned up the sound.

“Police are treating the fire and deaths as suspicious,” the reporter said. “Several survivors have been interviewed, and one man is currently being questioned by the police.”

On the screen they showed the back of a dark-haired man whose gait was all too familiar. He walked beside several police officers, and while he wasn’t handcuffed or anything, they were heading in the general direction of a police car.

I just about choked on my sandwich. What the hell had Damon been doing at the bar? Had he caused the fire and the subsequent deaths? Part of me wanted to think he hadn’t, but there was no escaping the fact that he’d described himself as a killer.

Still, if they’d had any actual evidence against him, surely he would have been arrested rather than merely taken in to be interviewed. I didn’t know a whole lot about the workings of the police and the law, but that seemed the logical route.

Maybe I should go down there and provide him with an alibi. I’d been with him a good part of the night, after all, and even though he’d stolen heat from both the guards, he was a full dragon and restricted by the rule of night. He couldn’t flame, even if he had been at full strength.

Hell, even daylight might not have helped him. It could take days to get back the sort of strength needed to set a fire that large. At least, it would for an ordinary dragon.

But there were other ways of lighting fires, and surely a dragon trained as an assassin would not be above using them.

In truth, the part of me that wanted to help him was undoubtedly the same part that remembered the feel of his lips on mine, and the way the merest hint of a smile had sent my pulse racing like a mad thing.

I hated that reaction. Or rather, hated the fact that it was aimed yet again at the wrong sort of man. Why couldn’t my hormones pick some kind, gentle, normal man for a change?

Of course, the sane part of me—the part that actually remembered the pain of trusting too easily and that had sworn never to trust like that again—was reluctant to go anywhere near him.

After all, there was a very real possibility that he was responsible. I had no idea when the fire had started. No idea where he’d gone after he’d left me.

And yet I felt like I owed him. While I might have gotten us out of that cellar, he’d gotten us free of the house and made sure I’d arrived at Trae’s safely.

I gulped down my sandwich, then jumped off the sofa and headed for the phone once again. Before I decided what to do, I needed to find out where he’d be. The bar was on Fillmore Street, so it seemed logical he would have been taken to Northern Station, but I wanted to be sure before I wasted cash on cab fare.

Robyn would know that sort of information. She was one of the crime reporters at the Chronicle and had been a friend since journalism school. She was also very human—and didn’t know that I wasn’t.

“Hey, chickie,” she said, voice its ever-cheery self when I phoned. “How you doing?”

“Not bad, considering that in the last twenty-four hours I’ve been run off the road, drugged, and then kidnapped.”

“No! Seriously? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I hesitated. “I was told the Chronicle ran a story on the accident?”

“Not that I know of. I’m sure Frankie would have mentioned one of our own being in an accident, and he knows we’re friends.”

“That’s what I thought.” So Angus had been lying. “Listen, I need some help with a story I’m tracking down.”

“And here I was thinking you were off on a vacation with that mad friend of yours.”

“I was. Am.” Only the mad friend is dead and I need to save her soul. “But I caught a whiff of something that may or may not amount to anything.”

“If it amounts to anything, I want the details. In full and over coffee. And cake.”

“Done deal.” Although the details would be highly modified, given she had no idea what I was. “What can you tell me about the fire on Fillmore Street last night?”

“Nothing much more than what’s been said on TV. Why?”

“Because I know the man arrested for it, and I don’t think he did it.”

“No one was arrested.” Confusion darkened her tone. “Although a Damon Rey was taken in for questioning.”

Well, at least he’d given me his correct name. “What station is he at?”

“None of them. I think they released him about an hour ago.”

“Damn.” Why I was disappointed I couldn’t entirely say. At least it solved the problem of me having to provide an alibi for the man. “What time did the fire start?”

“Witnesses say about three, but the arson investigators have only just started sifting through the ruins.”

Which meant he could have been responsible. Damn, damn, and damn.

“He’s staying at the Ritz-Carlton, if that’s of any use,” Robyn said.

Who’d have guessed Death was a five-star sort of guy? “How do you know all this shit?”

“It’s my job,” she said drily. “And I’m good at what I do. So you’re not even going to give me the slightest hint as to how this fire is connected to what happened to you?”

“Not yet. But we will have that cake.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

I smiled and hung up. Now what? It was still too early to go find Angus—Janelle said he wouldn’t be at the boat until this evening, and she wasn’t often wrong.

So, what next?

I knew what I wanted to do. It might be stupid, but I wanted to see Damon again. I had a feeling he could answer more than a few of my questions—not that he actually would.

I bit my bottom lip for a moment, then thought: What the hell? I had nothing to lose by at least trying.

I grabbed a sweater, raided the cash my brother kept in his so-called secret spot, then headed out. I caught a cab, but the traffic was its usual chaotic self, so I got out near the Fairmont and walked the rest of the way. The Ritz looked as impressive as ever, its grand façade almost seeming to belong to another century, one more suited to horse-drawn vehicles and ladies in fine silks.

I crossed the road and headed into the foyer. After a moment of admiring the lush surroundings, I headed over to the reception desk. A pleasant-looking woman gave me a friendly smile and said, “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Damon Rey. He’s a guest here.”

“I can give him a call and let him know you wish to see him, if you like.”

“That would be great.” Even if it wasn’t. He was just as likely to send me away as see me.

“Who shall I say is calling?”

I hesitated. “Just tell him Mercy Reynolds is downstairs waiting for him.”

She nodded and made the call. She didn’t say anything, which meant he wasn’t answering, a fact she confirmed minutes later. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t appear to be in. Would you like to leave him a message?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

She handed me a notepad. I scrawled down my name and my brother’s phone number, then pushed it back.

“Will that be all?” she asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

I walked away. So much for that great idea. Maybe I should just head down to Angus’s place, and hang around on the off chance he would get there earlier than Janelle predicted.

I exited the hotel, smiling at the doorman as he wished me a good day, and headed toward California Street. But I’d barely taken a dozen steps when my heart just about leaped into my throat and I froze. In the shadows of the trees lining the curb was one of the men Damon had knocked out last night—the guard with the silky voice.

God, I was stupid. Stupid.

If I could trace Damon to the Ritz, it stood to reason his kidnappers could, too. Hell, for all I knew, this could have been where they’d captured him in the first place.

I needed to get out of here—and fast.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, he looked up. I didn’t have to see his expression to know his anger and his sense of triumph. The feel of it rode across the breeze.

He pushed away from the tree.

I turned and ran down the street and right onto Pine Street, scattering pedestrians as I went. I swung right again, keeping to the shadows of the trees and hoping against hope that I was faster.

A quick glance over my shoulder proved that I wasn’t.

Fear slipped through me. I thought about stopping, about asking for help, but I just couldn’t risk anyone else’s safety. Besides, I could protect myself if I really needed to, and other people—especially if they were human—would just get in the way. Even with the tight control I had over my flames, things could very easily get out of hand in a street filled with cars and people. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt. I couldn’t live with that guilt.

So I kept on running.

My pulse was racing as fast as my feet and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. I’d let my fitness slip since leaving my clique, and I might just pay the price for that slackness now, because the footsteps of my pursuer were getting closer and closer.

Panic rolled through me, sending a surge of energy through my legs. Somehow, my speed increased, and the footsteps seemed just a shade farther behind.

I couldn’t let them catch me again. I just couldn’t. There’d be no second escape, of that I was sure.

I turned left onto California Street. More people, more parked cars, trees, and lots of big tall buildings. And nowhere to hide that wouldn’t endanger others, leaving me with little option but to keep going. I ran across the street, heard the screech of brakes from behind, and jumped sideways. The hood of a green car slid past my side, missing me by inches. It came to a halt between me and my pursuer, but instead of the irate driver flinging abuse, he reached backward and flung the door open. A familiar voice said, “Get in.”

I didn’t hesitate, just dived into the backseat and slammed the door shut. With a squeal of rubber, Damon took off. My pursuer quickly became a speck lost to the distance, then disappeared altogether as we sped down another street.

I collapsed back into the seat and let out a relieved breath. “Thank you,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead with a shaking hand.

“What the hell were you doing at the Ritz?” he said, voice not in the least bit friendly.

“Looking for you.”

“And it didn’t occur to you that our kidnappers might well be doing the same thing?”

“Not until I saw that guy waiting outside, no.”

He shook his head, his dark gaze meeting mine briefly at the edge of the rearview mirror. “Stupid.”

Heat burned into my cheeks and sparks flickered briefly across my fingertips. I clenched my hand and tried to calm the annoyance. “I realize that now. I don’t need your admonishment on top of it.”

He grunted slightly, swung the car onto another street, then said, “What did you want to see me about?”

“I saw on the news that you’d been arrested—”

“Not arrested,” he corrected, and I swear there was humor in his voice, even though there was little emotion to be tasted on the air. “Just answering a few questions.”

“We both know that’s only one step from being arrested.” I paused. “Did you set that blaze?”

He contemplated me through the rearview mirror for a moment. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy enough to set a bar alight.” I studied his back and wondered if anyone could ever accurately tell what this man was thinking. I certainly couldn’t. Not at the moment, anyway. “But I don’t think you actually did.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Nice to know my fellow prisoner has a little faith in me.”

“I don’t have faith in anyone but my brother and Rainey.” And she was dead. I looked briefly out the window, wondering where we were going and realizing I didn’t really care, then added, “It’s a simple matter of facts. You were locked up for thirteen days without sunlight. Even with the heat you stole, I doubt you’d have been able to maintain enough fire to set that building alight.”

“There are other ways to light a fire, you know. Even dragons can use them.”

“Yeah, but you seem the type to want to do your own dirty work, right down to the flame that kills.”

His gaze met mine again, the dark depths of his eyes contemplative. “You seem to have formed a very quick opinion of someone you don’t really know.”

My smile held a bitter edge. “You have to where I come from. It can be the difference between gaining new scars or not.”

One dark eyebrow winged upward. “Surely a pretty woman like you wouldn’t have that many scars.”

I snorted softly. Death obviously needed glasses. I might be many things, but pretty wasn’t one of them. Not that I considered myself ugly. Just plain. Very plain. A brown dragon who couldn’t shift shape in a world filled with beasts who could shimmer and fly. “I’ve more scars than I have fingers.”

He frowned. “I saw the one on your forehead. What happened there?”

I reached up and touched the rapidly fading scar. “That one was courtesy of a recent run-in with a truck. The others were courtesy of my clique.”

“What in the hell goes on in your clique?”

There was an edge to his voice that had my eyebrows rising. It wasn’t concern, but it seemed very close to it, which was odd.

“Nothing much different from many others, I suspect.” I crossed my arms and looked out the window again. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Back to your brother’s place. You need to get some things together, then get the hell away from there.”

“I don’t really think—”

“Yeah, we discovered that.”

Annoyance flowed through me again. “You have a smart mouth for someone who was close to hibernation last night.”

“Good point.” He slowed the car as the lights ahead changed to red, then said, “Why were you coming to see me?”

I don’t really know. But I couldn’t admit that—or rather, I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to appear indecisive. Why, I had no idea. I mean, he was a stranger, and a rather odd one at that. “I want to know who those men were. I want to know who is pulling their strings.”

“And why would you think I’d know?”

“You know a hell of a lot more than you’re admitting, so enough of the games, Damon. I need to know what’s going on.”

He considered me briefly, then said, “Why is knowing so important to you?”

I hesitated, torn between the need to trust someone and a past that suggested men like him could never be counted on. “I’m a reporter.”

I didn’t need to see his grimace to feel the sweep of his disdain. “And you think you’re on the trail of an award-winning story? Lady, you have no idea.”

“If you keep saying that, I just might think you mean it.” I kept my voice deliberately light, masking both my growing irritation and perhaps a little hurt, which was stupid. Why should the opinion of this man carry so much weight? Why would I even let it?

“This is not something you should be sticking your pretty little nose into.” His voice was as cold as the look he cast my way. “These men are dangerous. I’m dangerous. You’d best get well away from us all.”

“Thanks for the warning but I’m afraid I can’t oblige.” I hesitated, then added softly, “There’s someone I need to save. To do that, I need answers.”

He didn’t reply, but his disapproval continued to sting the air. I stared out the windows. Obviously, this man had no intention of helping me out. I was stupid to think he ever would.

He turned right onto another street, slowing down as he slotted into the unusually heavy traffic. I realized we were about to pass my apartment and shifted to look out the window. Would any of the guards from last night be lurking around the front of the building? They had my driver’s license, after all, so they knew where I lived.

I didn’t see the guards. What I did see was flashing lights and dark plumes of smoke.

My apartment building was on fire.

Fire engines blocked the road ahead, and thick sprays of water were being directed up high. People huddled farther down the road, some crying, some wrapped in blankets, all of them looking shocked. Some of those faces I knew—my elderly neighbors. At least they’d gotten out. I hoped everyone else had, too.

My gaze went back to the flames leaping out high above from the top-floor windows.

My floor.

And it was a big fire—maybe too big. Had I been there, I might have been dead. I wasn’t, so I guess I had to be grateful for that. But everything would be gone.

Everything.

All the photos, all the little bits and pieces that I’d gathered over the years. Little things that had no value and wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to me they were reminders of good times—and there’d been few enough of those in my childhood.

Tears stung my eyes, and I clenched my fists against the urge to jump out of the car and race to the fire, to save something, anything, of my life and my past. But the flames were just too fierce and there were far too many firemen and cops. I’d never even get near the building, let alone close enough to suck in all that heat and fire in an attempt to quell it.

God, these bastards just kept destroying things I loved. It had to stop—and before I didn’t have anything left to destroy.

Of course, it was always possible the fire might have been accidental, but even as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. What were the odds of an accidental fire happening days after Rainey being killed and me being kidnapped?

I swiped at my eyes, then muttered, “I think I need cake. Thick, gooey chocolate cake.”

“What, now? Why?” Damon said, confusion evident in his voice as he eased the car’s speed.

“Because chocolate cake is a perfect pick-me-up when life decides to deal you one of those nasty little surprises.” My voice broke a little, and I took a deep, shuddering breath before adding, “That’s my building on fire.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s probably not a coincidence,” he said softly. “First the bar, and now your place. It would seem one of our kidnappers is something of an arsonist.”

“So you think it was one of the guards who set the bar on fire?” My gaze was dragged from the blaze as a police officer directed us down a side street. In some ways it was a relief. If I couldn’t see the flames, maybe I wouldn’t think about the destruction they’d wreaked on my life. Not until I lay down to sleep, anyway.

“The bartender was one of the men who questioned me when they had me locked up. I recognized his voice.”

“Well, that explains how I got snatched.” And proved my instincts had been right. Shame I hadn’t listened to them and got the hell out of there while I still could. “I was in that bar meeting Angus when I was drugged. He was the one who took me to that house.”

“Angus?”

“A sea dragon.” I hesitated. “I got a feeling he’s working for them unwillingly.”

“You do make the oddest judgments about people you’ve barely met, don’t you?”

“You learn to judge very quickly when it means avoiding another scar.”

He frowned. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Why on earth would anyone want to scar you?”

“Because of what I am.” Because they could. “So you did go back to the bar last night?”

Damon’s sudden smile was something I felt rather than saw, but it was a cold thing that sent goose bumps across my skin.

“Yes.”

“How? I mean, you might have stolen heat, but you weren’t exactly a powerhouse of energy when you left me.”

“Perhaps not, but like the other two guards, the bartender kindly decided to loan me his heat.”

“And did he survive the encounter?”

“He was weak, but alive—and the bar intact—when I left.” Damon shrugged, a movement that was surprisingly eloquent. “I was hoping he’d lead me back to his master’s lair sometime over the next few days.”

“So you merely put the fear of God into him while firing up the furnaces?”

“More like the fear of death.” He met my gaze in the mirror again, a slight frown creasing his brow. “The only one who doesn’t seem to be afraid of me is you.”

“That’s because I have no sense.”

A smile twitched his lips again. I pulled my gaze away and tried to think sensible thoughts rather than what I’d really like to do to those lips. “The cops must have found you pretty quickly—which means those men could have, too.”

“I’m a little smarter than that.” The look he cast my way reminded me that I hadn’t been. “When I heard on the news that the cops were looking for a man fitting my description, I turned myself in. We talked, then they let me go.” He paused, and swung the car around another corner. “You don’t give up until you get your answers, do you?”

“It’s the reporter in me.”

“Or your naturally stubborn nature.”

“That, too.”

He swung onto another street. “With the bar torched, and the bartender dead, I had intended to keep an eye on my hotel and follow any watchers to their source. That plan got a little sidetracked.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Though I wasn’t. Not entirely. At least I’d gotten to talk to him again, even if he hadn’t provided any real information.

He turned right again, and my brother’s apartment came into sight.

Only it was on fire as well.